Dinner Guests 2
by Zayz
Summary: [Complete][LJ] A sequel to my other story, Dinner Guests. Read that one first. In this one, Lily must return the favor and go to James Potter's house for dinner. R&R?
1. Not Again!

**Chapter 1: Not Again?!**

_You asked for it, you got it:D I decided that I would indeed make a sequel to my original Dinner Guests story, and I would highly suggest reading that before you read this one. Thanks for all your kind reviews on the other one! I do appreciate it! Anyway, this one is in Lily's POV again, and takes place a few weeks after the first story. Other than that though, you don't really need to know much else. But remember: __everything__ belongs to the talented J. K. Rowling, and I am just a really bored teenager who has far too much free time on her hands. :) Enjoy the story!_

From past experience, I know that when someone tells you to call them back to organize another dinner, they usually don't mean it. If you call, they'll tell you that they're insanely busy, and they wouldn't be able to have you over. If you don't call, you will never hear from them again. I've seen it happen countless times with my mother's "friends" that she meets everywhere, and I thought that the Potters would be the same way as all the others. However, it turned out that I was quite wrong.

As is her custom, Mum called the Potters and asked if they would like to visit again. She called about a week after the fateful dinner she had thrown against my wishes; that was enough time after the visit to make it look like we had a life, but not so much that it looked like we didn't care at all about them. Mrs. Potter said that she would be delighted, but insisted that we come to _their_ home this time. I had been eavesdropping on the other telephone, and I nearly dropped it; this had never happened before!

My mother, as surprised as I was, agreed at once; we were to go to the Potter's house tonight at eight. I actually burst into tears when I was informed of this; I did _not_ want to go to the place where James Potter lived! Not after what had happened; there was no telling what would happen while I was there. What would I wear? What would I do when I got there? Things would be quite awkward, seeing as I had kissed James before he had left, and had been caught nearly kissing him by both of our parents. James probably believed that I loved him now, which, of course, I didn't.

But wait; _did_ I love James now? Kissing a boy usually meant that you loved him, at least a little bit. I don't think I love him. Our kiss had been innocent; I had made sure of that. When I had woken up the next morning, I had been sure it was a dream. Right after he had kissed me, I hadn't even registered how I felt about it, but that morning, I did know. It had felt wonderful; everything I thought it would be, and more. It was warm, sweet, safe…absolutely perfect. That being said, I was highly astonished that such a feeling had been given to me by James, of all people. After much wrestling with these thoughts, I had come to a conclusion; I did _not_ love him, like I had known before, and I had just been caught up in the moment. Yes, that sounded about right. It wasn't love; just something…else.

I had obviously been displeased with the arrangement, but my reaction was fairly tame compared to that of Petunia. When she was told that we were going to the Potter's, she threw an enormous fit; she began to shout about how she had already spent time with them, and had hated it. I took the liberty of reminding her that _I_ had spent time with them, and she had stayed in her room all night. She was pretty pissed at me, but I had every right to tell her that; I had been the one to suffer, yet here she was, throwing a first-rate tantrum. Sisters were truly put on this planet to annoy the life out of the people around them, and my sister is no exception.

"Mum, I am _not_ going to see the Potters!" Petunia hollered for the millionth time that morning while we were eating breakfast. "I won't!"

"That's rather unfortunate then, considering that you're coming alone anyway," Mum answered, taking another bite of her cereal.

"This is not fair!" she whined. "I don't want to go. What if their house is disgusting? What if they have a cat? You know I'm allergic to cats."

"James doesn't have any pets," I said. "He told me once."

"See, there you go," Mum said, beaming. "Problem solved; no cats there, Petunia."

"But-but-but Lily doesn't even like James!" Petunia tried again. "How could she know if he has a pet or not? She doesn't talk to him!"

"He likes telling the whole world these sorts of things, and I happen to be part of the 'whole world,' so to speak," I explained. "James doesn't lead a very private life. Everyone knows what he likes, what he doesn't, and just about everything having to do with his home life. According to a few of his former girlfriends, he has an enormous house that is brilliantly furnished, so you won't have to worry about that either."

Watching Petunia get agitated was indeed one of my much beloved forms of entertainment, so I watched interestedly over my own cereal as Petunia began to go into hysterics about the twelve hundred different reasons why she should not go with us to the Potters. My mother felt the same way; she and I exchanged glances every so often as we continued to eat and observe Petunia throw a fit. After a while, however, I got rather bored; I put my bowl in the dishwasher and went back upstairs. As I went, the echoes of Petunia's outbursts were still going on below me, and I laughed once I was in the safety of my own room; even though I would probably be doing the same thing she was, it was much funnier when she did it.

Once alone, I found myself thinking about James again. Something about his memory made my stomach tighten up and flip over, and there was an odd flutter in my chest. What was that all about? There wasn't anything between us. I had experienced similar feelings before when he was around, but by now, I was too used to them to care. They had never been that strong before though; that was a little worrying.

I found my pictures from the last day of my fifth year in my drawer of odds-and-ends, and I took them to my bed to look at them. I hadn't really given them much thought since the school year ended, but now, I wanted to see them again. I wasn't quite sure why.

There were all sorts of silly photographs in my pile; there were several of me and my friends making stupid faces, a few of me with my teachers, and even one of me pretending to model my Hogwarts robes on the train. I laughed aloud when I saw that one; my friends had told me that I looked like a model, and I had disagreed with them. To prove their point, the girls had taken a photo of me pretending to model my robes, and I had kept the evidence. Looking back on it, I actually didn't look as horrible as I could have on the film. Wow.

Through my surfing of the pictures, I knew that there was only one I really wanted to see. When we had been about to board the train, James and his friends Remus, Sirius, and Peter had insisted that they have a picture on my camera. I had taken one look at James and refused point-blank, but Remus managed to talk me into it. I had then taken my only photograph of the boys together, and for some reason, I had kept that one too. I gazed at it now; despite the fact that they were acting extremely childish, I liked it. It was natural, and if anyone else had tried to do it without their admittedly aggravating streak of pride and confidence, it wouldn't have worked. James looked kind of good-looking, his hair falling over his eyes, laughing the way he was. I found myself smiling a little to see him that way; waving aside his utter stupidity, the boy had a certain charm.

No. I could _not_ be thinking this way. This was the second time on the same day that I found myself questioning whether I loved James Potter or not. The answer was no. I had told James that, and I had told myself that. No. No, I did not love him at all, and this was just something else. Something without a definition, more like. Our kiss had been nothing. One kiss shouldn't mean anything. I've kissed boys before (in secret, so that idiots like James would not be able to tell my mother about it) and it had never received as much as thought on my part as this one did. Why was this happening to me?

I put the photographs away, not wanting to look at them anymore. But, when I had tucked the boys safely away where I would hopefully never see them again, I felt strange. With a resigned sigh, I took the picture of James and his friends out again and posted it in the middle of my picture wall. I had needed a picture to go there, and I had chosen theirs. I lay back on my bed and stared at the picture, smiling; nobody could really help but to smile when they saw something like that.

I picked my book up from the table beside me and opened it, even though my mind was still far away. I didn't love James Potter, I told myself as I attempted to get lost in the world of the story. I didn't love James Potter. I didn't love James Potter. I didn't love James Potter.

But, at the same time, did I love James Potter anyway?


	2. Preparing for Hell on Earth

**Dinner Guests 2**

**Chapter 2: Preparing for Hell on Earth**

_Yes, of course it will seem like hell for Lily! Look what happened to her before; she's not exactly excited, is she? Besides, she doesn't know how to deal with James after kissing him, and she's not really one to jump out and meet life as it comes. But anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter; I know that Lily didn't. :D_

The déjà vu was just maddeningly familiar.

When I had found that I would have to let James Potter into my house – my natural environment – I had not been sure what to wear or anything. Now, I was faced with the same problem; what was I supposed to do when I had to prepare to go to _his_ house? I rushed to my bathroom and looked critically in the mirror, trying to settle on what I should do.

Thankfully, my legs were shaved this time and my hair was clean; now it was just a matter of what I would do with the rest of me. Should I wear a dress or a skirt again? Would pants look too casual? How much leg was I allowed to show? I don't have any friends that are boys, so getting to ready to go to one's house was a completely new experience for me; I didn't really like it so far though.

I had curled my hair last time, so I couldn't do that again; I tied it up into a high ponytail. I looked at the effect and took it out at once; it was far too severe looking. I tied it again in a lower ponytail, but that didn't look right either; it was too flirty. I had used the style on the Quidditch field during the days I had liked their Keeper, and I knew that James would remember it; he would get the wrong idea, and I would be utterly humiliated, so that was ruled out as well.

Doing my hair was too much trouble, I figured then; I would pick my clothes first. Now I was back to the dilemma of a skirt, a dress, or pants. Joy. I crossed pants off my list for looking too laid-back and went to the more girly side of my closet; I didn't venture out into that section often. My mother had recently bought me a new skirt that was "absolutely darling," but I didn't want to look like a cute little schoolgirl; I wanted to be…pretty, but not over done. That skirt, therefore, would never work; I tossed it onto my bed so that I would remember not to wear it.

At the end of a half an hour, I was still nowhere with my outfit; all I had was a rejected pile of clothing stacked up on my bed. Did I not have _any_ decent clothes? I moved to dresses next; maybe one of those would work. It turned out that they didn't; I had a beige and brown one that made me look like a coffee cake, a sunny yellow one that made me look like a lemon popsicle, a pastel pink one that made me look like a bar of cotton candy, and a red one that clashed hideously with my hair. I would need to remember to go shopping some time soon; I had no acceptable garments to wear in public.

Grudgingly, I went back to my skirts. One of them was made of denim, and went mid-thigh, but it was too closely related to the white one I had worn the preceding time; the very last thing I wanted was to look like I had repeated my outfit, so I threw it on the ground. I remembered that I had a really cute periwinkle one, but I realized that I had worn it the other day to go to a party; how convenient. I sighed, frustrated, and began to analyze the effect of my baby-blue skirt. It was probably the best skirt I had – simply designed, adorable, and reaching nearly to my knees – so I decided to go with it. I was rather pleased; one half of my outfit had been selected.

Shirts; this was where it got fiddly. Should I wear one with a low neck, or keep it modest? Did I want to wear my new, fairly-revealing tank top, or would it make me look too…stripped? I didn't want to wear a something with a collar, but at the same time, I had a beautiful collared shirt that looked nice with the skirt I had picked. I ended up with a blue tank top the color of my skirt that bared a considerable amount of my stomach, and over it, I wore a fairly see-through white lace t-shirt with a moderate neckline; it looked ideal together.

I then took a victory leap around my room; I deserved it, because I had now settled on acceptable attire for the evening! It had been painful, but I was thrilled with the results. My fun was cut short, however, by the memory of my hair, which still needed to be styled somehow. I trudged over to my mirror again; this was starting to feel like a thankless, never-ending process.

First, I put it into two loose braids, but I pulled them out right away; I looked like a farm hand! I tried two pigtails behind my ears and over my shoulders, but it didn't seem to work well with my outfit. It looked nice left open, but I knew my hair well enough to know that the moment I walked into the Potter's house, it would look like a mop of spaghetti again; that wouldn't do. I put a headband in it, but it probably wouldn't hold out for the whole evening. What was I supposed to do?!

Eventually, I settled on over-curling my hair and putting it up in a messy ponytail; the curls looked nice when they were disheveled, for some reason. I left a curly strand hanging over the right side of my face as well; it was just the right length to make the style work. Delighted, I pulled on my clothes and put a careful amount of make-up on my face; when I was finished, I stepped back to admire my work. I actually looked quite nice (I guess the job isn't so thankless after all), and with my new white high-heels, James would be drooling rivers, which was the intent.

It was a relief that I wouldn't have to clean my room this time around; I had wasted enough time getting dressed. I laughed to myself as I walked downstairs, feeling like a supermodel, and showed myself off to my mother.

"Lily, you look absolutely wonderful," she cooed. "James will love it!" How was it that mothers knew everything? It was really irritating.

"I didn't do it for James," I said, my statement only partially true. "I did it because I didn't want to look too exaggerated, but I didn't want to look too relaxed either."

"All right," Mum agreed, smiling in her knowing way. "Do you know where Petunia went? I can't seem to find her…"

"She's at Patricia's," I said. "She said, and I quote, 'I have no wish to be going to the freak circus tonight, and I really want to be left here at Patricia's.'"

My mother pursed her lips. "She's going tonight, no matter what. And while you're on a roll, do you know where my bronze dress is? I can't seem to find it, and I wanted to wear it."

"You gave it to the launders last week; you were supposed to pick it up yesterday," I said. "I do recall telling you that."

"Yes, you did," she said. "Damn it; should I go pick it up now then?"

"I would say yes, because it would look good for their dinner." I was telling the full truth this time; it was the perfect dress for such an occasion.

"All right…I'll be right back." She grabbed her purse and scuttled out to the car, driving off as quickly as she could. I snickered just a little; it was kind of funny to watch my mother run away at the very last second and even though I was able to watch her do this often, the novelty never really wore off.

She was back within ten minutes, dress in hand, and looking flustered. In another fifteen, she rushed back downstairs wearing it, make-up, hair, and shoes already taken care of. We had to fetch Petunia as well, so time was a little on the shorter side. Mum and I hopped into the car to drive to Patricia's, where I went in and came right back out, my sister being dragged along behind me. My mother had purposely ensured that she wore adequate clothes before leaving the house in the morning; that meant that we were on our way straight off, and making very good time at that.

Despite the fact that Petunia and Mum were bickering about why Petunia had to come along with us the entire way, I wasn't worried. They would have to behave themselves once in the company of the Potters like they had the last time. I did miss my father, however; he was still stuck in Spain doing business, and hadn't been able to come back in time to go to the Potter's house with us. Having him along would have made things better for me; he would have kept Mum and Petunia civil. I amused myself for a few minutes, imagining what he would have said in the current situation.

As we continued to drive and get closer to the place though, I couldn't help but sigh deeply; every mile we advanced now was another mile closer to my personal hell on earth.

No matter what I tried to tell myself, I knew that tonight was going to get a bit ugly.

_Don't you just love cliffies? xD I know I do. I also enjoyed Lily freaking out over her clothes…that would definitely be me if I was on my way to James Potter's house. X3 Anyway, I hope you read the next chapter, where they actually reach the Potter's place. :D Review me please!_

_Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, of course; they are the creation of J. K. Rowling, and no one else._


	3. Hello Again

**Dinner Guests 2**

**Chapter 3: Hello Again**

_The chapter title, as creative and lovely as it undoubtedly is, should give you a fairly humungous idea of what's going to happen now:D This chapter was helped along considerably by the song Stupid Cupid by Mandy Moore. It's such a cute song, and works so well for Ms. Evans. :D Just remember that __I do not own Harry Potter or anything in it; all of this belongs to J. K. Rowling.__ Thank you, enjoy, and don't forget to give me a review!_

I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but the Potter household was not what I had thought it would be.

I couldn't even call it a house; it was more of a mansion than anything else. It was made entirely out of red brick, like most houses were, but the color of it was almost a demure brown rather than the usual orange-brown. Most houses also had obvious shapes of bricks and cement visible, but this house did not; the lines were hidden almost flawlessly. There was a main house, which had an enormous stained-glass window above the door which gave a distorted view into the building. Attached to either side were two smaller, but still enormous structures – I could see a giant swimming pool in one, and what looked like a simulation of a Quidditch field in the other. My mouth had inadvertently been hanging open as I took all of this in; I closed it at once, but I continued to gawk at the place like a brain-dead moron. This was where James Potter lived!

My mother was in as much awe as I was; she whispered to me, "What a house! I've never seen such a house like this around here before."

Even Petunia was impressed. "Maybe I like freaks a little bit more now," she remarked, looking around the property. "Their house is gorgeous."

"Let's ring the bell, shall we?" Mum said, walking up the path to the door with Petunia and me. We rang the doorbell and waited for them to answer it.

After a few minutes, James opened the door and smiled at me, making the flutters return to my chest. "Welcome," he said graciously, allowing us to walk in. I noticed that he was looking predominantly at me as he led the three of us in; that wasn't very good for my already-tightened stomach.

"Mum! Dad! They're here," he called out. He turned back us then, and smiled at Petunia and Mum. "You look lovely tonight, Mrs. Evans," he said politely. "Same to you, Petunia."

"Thank you," Mum said in her fluffiest voice, making me groan inwardly. Petunia gave him a sort of nod, but didn't respond to his compliment. This certainly did amuse him, but he turned back to me, his smile warmer than before.

"You look beautiful," he said, his tone sincere.

I blushed, and he gave a low chuckle. "You would be surprised how pink you just turned; I like it though."

I didn't have a response for this, but I was saved the agony of coming up with one by the appearance of Mr. and Mrs. Potter.

"Lily, Michelle, and Petunia!" Mrs. Potter came forward to hug each of us in turn, and beamed at us. "How nice it is to see you all again! Come in, come in." She ushered us into her living room, which was also absolutely stunning. It was made of a dark, polished wood, and set very classically. The room was spacious and airy, but still had an intimate sort of feel in it; the furniture was also, again, beyond belief. James caught my expression and grinned.

"You like it?" he asked, though he already knew my answer.

"This is the most magnificent house I've ever been in," I admitted. "I love it."

"Would you like the grand tour?" he inquired.

"Yes, I would," I said. "Petunia, would you like to see the house as well?"

"No," she said resolutely. "I'm going to stay here."

"All right, all right; calm down - it was just a simple question." I shrugged and let James take me to the kitchen to start the little tour.

Déjà vu again; this was just like when I had taken James around my own house. I wanted to look at everything because I had never actually looked closely at a wizard's house before; they had all sorts of knick knacks that intrigued me. I was grateful that James wasn't as rude to me as I had been to him; I sort of felt guilty about that now. He was so hospitable, and answered all my questions without even sighing at the stupidity of them. I found myself liking him a little bit for it. But only a little bit.

When we got to his room, it was exactly what I would have imagined it to be; another large room with an unmade bed, Quidditch posters all over the walls, and dirty clothes scattered everywhere. In a way, it looked a lot like my room when I didn't bother cleaning it; I could see he wasn't worried about me seeing his environment this way. I walked in and began fingering all the posters, fighting back the impulse to laugh. He was such a jock.

I couldn't believe it! He had a picture wall too! I went over to it and began to look at the pictures he had up. Most of them consisted of Sirius, Remus, Peter, and him doing various activities together or just messing around like they always did. Some featured James and his smug-looking girlfriends going out and having fun. A few had to have been taken by Mrs. Potter, because they were stiff-looking shots of James about to go to parties with assorted young ladies. I laughed out loud when I saw one with Sirius force-feeding him insects.

"When was this?" I asked, pointing to it.

James looked at it and began to laugh as well. "It was last summer; my friends and I went to the lake. Sirius dared me to do it, and Peter wanted a picture."

"What about this one?" I pointed to one where James was sitting on top of Sirius and pounding his head.

"You don't want to know," he said, grinning. "Remus likes having his camera around because we're always doing crazy stuff like that."

I smiled at him and went back to the picture wall; there were numerous other pictures I wanted to question him about. "What were you doing there?" There was one picture of him ballroom dancing with a blonde-haired girl, and it felt necessary to know why it was there.

"That was a girl I used to know, Melanie," he clarified. "She was my childhood friend since I was three; I haven't seen her in three years. This was when I last saw her; our mothers thought it would be cute to get us to dance and have photographic evidence of it."

"Did you like her?" I asked. Obviously he did, if he was looking at her the way he was, but he knew what I was really after.

"Well, when I saw her three years ago, I thought I loved her," he said. "But when she left, I realized that she would never be more to me than a friend; so yes, I did like her, but no, I did not love her."

I nodded, instantly feeling better, and I went to explore the rest of his room. On his desk (which was cluttered with goodness knows what), I discovered a few more pictures, but one of them startled me. It was…me; he had taken a photograph of me and framed it, something he hadn't done for any other picture. It was a candid shot of me laughing at something, and I felt that flutter in my chest again as I showed it to him.

"You framed a picture of me laughing?" I couldn't sound hurt; I was flattered.

"Yeah," he said, a pink starting to creep onto his cheeks. "I had my camera and it was the perfect moment; I really liked the picture."

"Really?" I knew I was blushing too, but I couldn't believe what I was seeing; no one had ever taken a picture of me without my knowing it, and though it was an invasion of privacy, it was all right when James did it.

"Really," he said, smiling. "I took it a couple of weeks ago."

He didn't say it, but there was a note of finality in that statement; he didn't want to elaborate on it for whatever reason. I got the message and went back to his door; I didn't really want to look at anything else in James's room.

We ventured outside then; James wanted to take me to the two structures I had seen earlier. It was dark out by now, but the air was warm and almost sickly-sweet, making it a pleasure to be out there with him. I hid my pleasure though, and let him open the door to the pool area.

Once there, my jaw dropped for about the fiftieth time that night; there was a vast swimming pool, perfectly placed in the middle of the room, with water that looked like glass. In the corner was a shower area, and in the other corner, there was space to change shoes and clothes. The cleanliness and perfection amounted to more that of a public gym, and I was had a hard time accepting that it all belonged to James. He noticed my delight, and asked, "You like pools, even though you don't swim in them?"

I was surprised; I hadn't expected him to remember that about me. "Well, yes," I said. "It's just so perfect…I couldn't believe that it all belongs to you."

His smile was very understanding. "A lot of people tell me that," he said. "But our neighbors treat it as a public area, which is why it looks the way it does."

So that's why; I had thought there was a reason why it looked like a public gym's swimming pool. "It must be difficult to maintain," I observed.

"Not really," James said. "My parents use magic, making it considerably easier."

I smiled back at him, and that familiar (but horrible) clenching sensation occurred in my stomach again. I couldn't stop staring at him; he looked so heart-achingly adorable in the lighting provided by the pool room. Once again, I was hit by the urge to kiss him; I wanted to kiss him, throw him in the pool, get out, and do it all again. I shut my desires up at once; thinking such things was not allowed. I made myself look away from him, and he cleared his throat.

"Shall we go to the other building then?" he asked.

"I suppose," I told him, looking at the ground rather than at his face again.

James took my hand in his and accompanied me to the other building. I liked the feeling of his hand; it was hardened from constant Quidditch playing, and mine fit nicely into it. It was snug too; I felt quite safe, like nothing would hurt me while he was there.

I shook myself mentally as I realized I was thinking this; it was completely messed up! I couldn't possibly feel that way when he was doing something as simple as holding my hand! What was wrong with me? This wasn't rational, logical, or even possible; I was taking everything far too seriously. James was _not_ in love with me, and I was not in love with him; I was just trying to make myself feel special. Real life was not a storybook; real life didn't work in such a cliché fashion. I had to stop thinking in that mind-set.

I had been so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn't noticed that we were at the other building; James had to gently shake me to get my attention. "Lily, are you all right? This is the Quidditch room; I like practicing with my dad in here."

"Sorry?" I looked out into the field of grass, mesmerized by it, but I couldn't really focus on its beauty the way I wanted to. "It's amazing, James," I told him honestly, hoping I didn't sound too vacant or too tired.

"Do you want to take a rest outside?" he asked. "It's probably better for you in the fresh air rather than this recycled stuff."

"Sure." I appreciated his concern, but quite frankly, it didn't matter to me where I was so long as he was there with me.

We went back out into the night, and I sat down on the grass, my breathing shallow. What was wrong with me? Normally I felt like this when I was alone, but now it was all coming to me when James was around. Why was it happening? What was I feeling? Why the hell was I asking myself these types of questions? I felt dizzy and thirsty; I wanted to faint and I didn't even know what the cause of the feeling was. It was sudden…I was feeling really messed up…what had I last eaten today? I think I ate something at breakfast…I was also in love or something…no, no, I wasn't in love…it was something else…something that wasn't love…no…not love…I was thirsty…why was I spinning so much? Why was everything so scratchy? Was I lying down? No, I wasn't tired…what was going on?

"Lily?" His voice was there, but it sounded faraway. He was concerned…he shouldn't be…I was fine…maybe…

"I'm fine," I tried to tell him. "Just give me a minute."

"I'm going to fetch your mother," he assured me. I could hear him leaving. I didn't want him to leave. I tried calling out to him, but everything spun again…this was so weird…what was happening? It was really, really weird, whatever it was…

The last thing I remember was feeling cold hands on my arms, and then there was darkness. Just darkness.

_Haha, did I freak you out? Are you wondering where all that came from? Well, good; I just really wanted to surprise you. :D Lily is feeling odd, obviously, and all that jazz will be taken care of in the next chapter. So…with that being said…give me a review and tell me what you thought of my screwed-up ending:D_


	4. Nobody's Girl

**Chapter 4: Nobody's Girl**

_So you're wondering; what the hell was Lily up to in the last chapter? I will answer your question if you will do the following: Remember that __this is all the creation of J. K. Rowling, and not me__, leave me a review at the end, and enjoy the chapter!_

_By the way; to understand why I named the chapter the way I did, just read on and it will make sense at the end. :D There's a reason to chapter names when I make them up; there always is._

The bed was really warm.

It was comfortable too.

I liked it.

But I didn't know where I was.

What had happened?

How much time had passed?

This was weird.

What was wrong with me?

It was time to answer these questions now. I was not a damsel in distress. I could take care of myself, and it was time to do so.

I sighed, and got out of the bed. I realized now that I was in James's room; the first thing I saw was the photo of Sirius feeding insects to James. I asked myself again; what had happened to me? I remembered feeling really strange, but after that, I was blank. Maybe if I went back downstairs, someone would be able to explain the situation to me.

When I reached the dining room at last (it was quite difficult to navigate through such a gigantic house by yourself), everyone was already seated around the table, talking. James saw me first; he abandoned his food and rushed over to me, his eyes alight with worry.

"Are you all right, Lil? You passed out on me!"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "I passed out?"

"Lily, come here," Mum said, coming over to take me back to her chair. "You were just having some stomach problems, weren't you?"

"Yes, that was it," I said, not sure if it was or not. "I happens to me a lot, Mrs. Potter; don't worry." I had noticed her expression of alarm and relief, and I felt the need to settle it.

"We're glad you're all right, Lily," Mr. Potter said. "James was a little hysterical. Would you like something to eat?"

"Nonsense!" Mum hugged me to the point where my breathing was challenged and plopped me down on the seat next to her. "My Lily bear is going to sit right here and eat only as much as her stomach will allow her to."

"Thanks Mum, but really, I can't eat anything right now," I told her. "If I could have some water, that would be great though."

Mrs. Potter turned around so that my mother couldn't see and charmed me a glass of water. "There you are, dear. Do you need anything else?"

I didn't really like this type of attention; I was more grateful Mr. Potter's nonchalance. Still, I smiled, shook my head, and stayed put in my spot. James's anxious eyes kept seeking mine out, but I avoided them; I didn't really have much to say, and giving him the opportunity to talk to him was out of the question right now.

Conversation returned after I sat in silence for a few minutes, and at one point, my mother's hand brushed against mine; they were ice cold. I couldn't help but ask, "Mum, were you the one who lifted me up?"

"Yes," she said. "Why?"

"Your hands are freezing," I said. "The last thing I remembered was a pair of cold hands before I blanked out."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said. "Are you sure you don't want to eat anything, Lils?"

"Yes, I'm sure," I confirmed. I then looked around, confused. "Do you know where Petunia is, by any chance? I just noticed that she's not here."

"Her friend rescued her from next door; she's there for the rest of the evening," Mum said, looking quite humiliated. "She threw a bit of a fit, and we'll fetch her after we're done here."

"Oh," I said. "Well, that was mighty rude of her, and I do apologize on her behalf," I addressed Mr. and Mrs. Potter. "My sister is, regrettably, the most asinine creature to walk this planet, and I do hope you aren't offended by her frightful behavior."

Mr. Potter began to guffaw heartily. "Look at you and your apologies! What a hoot!'

Mrs. Potter gave him a playfully irritated look, but smiled at me. "It's quite all right; I could see that she was bored, and I'm glad that she has something to do."

She was far too kind; Petunia did not deserve to be in the company of such a person. I didn't say this though; I went back to sipping my water and tried to change the subject. James, trying to assist me, began to talk about the outrageous thing Sirius had told him the other day; it was something about making out with a girl he had met, only to discover that she was his cousin.

"James, we are eating!" Mrs. Potter scolded him. "Please! Can't you tell us something about Sirius that doesn't involve kissing?"

"That's Sirius's hobby, Mum," James said, shrugging. "It'll be difficult to come up with something."

Mrs. Potter rolled her eyes. "Do make other friends, James; having only three is pitiful."

"James has lots of friends," I volunteered. "At school, he knows everyone, and he's always surrounded by a gaggle of admirers. Besides that, he's really outgoing, so people warm up to him immediately." I had been the sole exception to that, but I wasn't about to admit that I wasn't anymore.

He flashed me a grateful smile and I smiled back, my chest fluttering madly and my stomach tightening again. I turned back to Mrs. Potter quickly, not wanting all these emotions to haunt me again. She was considering what I had said, and began to contradict me.

"I haven't seen anyone besides those three boys in this house in two years," she said. "You're the first girl we've had in a while."

"That's odd, because James is always dating at Hogwarts," I said, looking over at him with curiosity.

"Well, yes, but right now, I don't quite fancy anyone," he explained, his cheeks red again. "The only girl I like won't have me." Maybe it was just me, but I got a meaningful look as he said this. I turned my head away to the side, trying to ignore it. No, no, this wasn't what it felt like. If I made a move, it would be utterly humiliating because I was not what he wanted. No, no, no…this was going all wrong again. This couldn't be happening.

"Who is this lucky little lady?" Mum asked interestedly.

"I can't say," James said. "But I like her. Quite a lot."

"Can I be excused?" I requested suddenly. "I-I have to go to the loo." I didn't wait for a response; I just jumped off and ran in the direction of the bathroom. I needed to be alone, and it was the only room in the house where I was guaranteed privacy.

Once there, I locked the door, and paced around the tiny room. What was I supposed to do? This was going all screwy again; how would I deal with this? I had to be honest with myself; that was all that I _could_ do. Admit the whole truth to myself in the safety of this bathroom. I looked at my face in the mirror and tried to say the words that I was trying to avoid.

"I love you, James," I whispered.

How good it sounded; I had been longing to say those four words together in one sentence for such a long time. I hadn't wanted to believe it, and I still didn't; I had only said it. Saying it and trusting it were two very diverse things. I sighed, trying to calm myself. Yes, I had said that I loved him. But what did that mean? I wasn't sure.

Okay, I had caught myself again. Loving him meant that I wanted to be his girl. I wanted to spend all my time with him and let him kiss me four hundred times a day. I was not the same as his other twittering girlfriends, and he knew it; we wouldn't be one of those break-it-off-in-three-weeks types of couples because our feelings for each other didn't work that way. Yes, I let myself say; I wanted to be his girl because that was what the chief emotion in all this – apparently called love – told me to do.

Ugh; no more fuzzy moments. I had to get back with reality again. I was not going to be James Potter's girl. I don't love him, he doesn't love me, and we are not going to share anything more than our tiny little kiss outside my front door. Whatever feelings I may have are irrelevant and insignificant; they are just silly little emotions from a girl who really needs to get her emotions straight. That's how it really is. That's how it is supposed to be.

I walked out of the bathroom, feeling like I had accomplished something, which I had; I had finally figured out what my emotions for James were. Things would be easier now. All I had to do was remember what I had realized in the bathroom. I wasn't his girl. I was just Lily Evans; I was nobody's girl and that is how I wanted it to be. I didn't need a guy to feel complete. I could be alone and still function.

As I approached the dining room, I was ready to be normal again. I just had to remember that I was nobody's girl. I liked the ring of that; it sounded independent and free. Nobody's girl. I wasn't going to be anybody's girl because I didn't need to be; I didn't love anyone that way and it wasn't vital for me to.

I was nobody's girl, and no one – not even James Potter – could change that.


	5. Trying to Talk Sense

**Chapter 5: Trying to Talk Sense**

_I can just hear you groaning after the last chapter; oh Lily, what are we going to do with you? Lol don't worry; the title of the chapter was selected to calm your nerves, but I'm not sure if you'll still feel soothed at the end of this one…now, you know this drill, but I'll repeat it anyway: __none of this is mine, only J. K. Rowling's__, leave me a review at the end, and enjoy!_

_Note: Sorry for reposting this; I realized after I posted it that it had some errors I wanted to fix before you saw it. Apologies!_

"Hey Lily; are you all right now?" James asked the moment I reentered the room.

"Yes," I said truthfully, beaming as I sat down in my chair. "I'm feeling much, much better."

"What was wrong?" Mrs. Potter inquired as she continued eating.

"Just had to get a few things straightened out; it's nothing big," I said imperturbably. "I know what I'm doing now."

"That's always a good thing," Mr. Potter agreed. "I wish I knew what I was doing sometimes."

"My life's been a bit screwed up lately; I empathize completely," I said.

"Care to share why?" Mum asked. "Maybe we can help."

"It's nothing really," I said, trying my hardest to blow it off. "It doesn't matter. I'm fine now. I'm back on track."

"Lily, you've been acting quite odd," Mum observed. "Are you sure you're all right, sweetie?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I chirped. "So…what's been going on lately?" I asked the Potters, trying to change the subject.

"Nothing really," Mrs. Potter said, sipping her drink. "But we do have to go to Diagon Ally to get James's schoolbooks soon. We always seem to forget."

"Like last year, the night before we were supposed to go to King's Cross, James started panicking, realizing that we had completely forgotten about his books!" Mr. Potter shared, laughing. "We started freaking out, but Lisa Apparated over and managed to get them just before they closed. Poor James nearly had a heart attack."

"Really?" Normally, I would have started laughing and asking for more insight on James's not-so-glamorous home life, but I felt kind of bad for him. I knew how it felt to have your misfortunes shared, so in a moment of uncharacteristic kindness towards him, I said, "Well, it's all over now, so we might as well forget about it."

James shot me a thankful smile, and I blushed, but kept my eyes on his parents, trying to find something else to say.

"Well, Michelle, how has life been going for you?" Mrs. Potter asked.

"Petunia got a persistent cough last week which would not go away; Lily and I caught it as well," Mum said. "We were all in bed for a couple of days before Lily got well and tried to take care of us."

"Are you all right now?" James seemed to have asked my mother this, but his eyes were on me.

"Yes, we are," I answered. "Thank you."

"We also saw that film in the cinema the other day," Mum said, reminiscing. "That horror movie; Lily dragged us out to see it."

"We were thinking about seeing it; was it any good?" Mr. Potter questioned.

"I didn't like it; too much blood for my tastes," Mum said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. It looked just like when James did it, but somehow, it didn't work for my mother anymore. I liked it when _James_ wrinkled his nose, not anyone else.

"I thought it was good," I said after I pushed my thoughts of James's nose away. "It wasn't even that gory; what they did have was completely fake."

"You like horror movies?" Mrs. Potter seemed impressed. "I didn't know that. James hates them; he insisted on coming along to one when he was eight and threw up afterwards. He doesn't watch them anymore."

It sounded just like my swimming incident when I was young. I didn't want to say anything though, because I knew that it would be kind of rude, and since my stomach was behaving itself, I didn't want to be rude.

"I'm done," James announced at once, his cheeks turning pink as he put his plate away in the sink.

"I am as well," I said, pushing my unused plate away and getting up as well. James didn't want to hear anything more about himself, and I wanted to be with him over my mother any day; it worked out.

"Good; would you care to join me outside then, Lil?" He offered me his hand and I took it, allowing him to take me to the backyard.

"So what made you faint today?" he asked me as soon as we were alone. I knew that he had been dying to ask me, which was probably why he left the table so early. James was never one to beat around the bush; he preferred just getting right to the point, which he was demonstrating now. Despite the fact that I knew all of this though, I was rather hesitant in answering his question.

"S-stomach problems," I partially-lied. "You heard my mother; I hadn't eaten much in the morning."

"Was that all of it?" His smile was knowing; how had he figured it out? First my mother, and now him; was I really such an open book?

"I was a little besieged with other things too, like anyone else might be," I said, though I wished that I would just stop trying to tell him otherwise. He knew everything; he just wanted me to say it. I wouldn't break down. I was nobody's girl, and I knew how to take care of myself.

"Your mum mentioned earlier that you'd been kind of quiet lately," he said, trying a different angle.

"Did she." We would _definitely_ be doing some talking during the car ride home.

"Yes; but she also said that you burst into tears when you found that you were coming tonight," he said, blushing crimson by that point. "I think I have a right to know why."

"Why do you take pride in stalking me?" I demanded, pacing around the area. "You have no business squeezing information out of my mother, so I'm not even going to answer this one."

"Lil, I'm concerned, like my mother is!" he tried to tell me. "Can't you trust me?"

No, I couldn't; I would be tempted to give myself to him, and I couldn't. I had to be nobody's girl. That was why I said quite shortly, "No; you are the very last person that I would trust, James, and you know it."

"Do you want me to just be open with you for a second?" His voice scared me; he seemed to have lost his newly-discovered polite layer, and he sounded almost angry.

"Lily, you know me better than anyone – even my parents – because I care about you. I'm never like this, as you've undoubtedly noticed; I've been really patient. In turn, I just want to know what's wrong. Something is bothering you. I've told you before; you're a horrible liar. Now tell the truth; why are you so unsure of yourself?"

"You can't do this to me," I insisted. "You can't get through my guard. I know what I'm doing now. Something had been bothering me, yes, but I know how to fix it. I'm okay, so will you please leave me alone?"

"If you honestly answer why you fainted today, I will try, to the best of my ability, to leave you alone," he promised. "Now tell me."

"I don't know why I fainted," I said. "I hadn't eaten much today, and I was a little confused. That's all." It was all, but it amounted to much more than it seemed to.

He picked up on that. "What you were confused about was obviously something huge; do you want to tell me what?"

"You don't understand me; you don't know me," I said. "Don't pretend that you do."

"No, I don't know you, but I'm trying to," James said. "Will you please stop biting my head off?"

"I am nobody's girl," I exploded. "No one can tell me what to do! No one can do a thing to me!"

"Wait, what?" His nose wrinkled in the most darling way I had ever seen. "What do you mean you're nobody's girl?"

"I don't belong to anyone," I said. "No one can tell me what I can and can't do. No one can question me if I don't want to answer."

"Why are you so defiant? What are you trying to hide?" Ugh; why did he try so hard? I wasn't going to tell him anything.

"I'm not hiding anything," I persisted. "There's nothing to tell. I told you what you wanted to know, so leave me alone!"

"Fine," he said unexpectedly, throwing his hands up in the air. "I give up. I tried talking some sense into you, but it's not working. You win."

I looked at him in confusion, so he clarified, "I'm done. You win. You don't have to tell me anything."

"Well…good, because I wasn't going to," I said, trying to sound tough again. "You aren't the boss of me."

"I understand and acknowledge that," James said. "I won't make the mistake of prying into your business again." He got up to retreat back into the house, and I sat down on the swing on the other side of the yard, feeling horrible.

I had blown it. I was so stupid; why had I been so crazy when I had been talking to him? Maybe it was the way my stomach twisted and crumpled whenever he spoke directly to me; I hated that feeling, which kind of frightened me. I guess I tried being defiant so that it would go away. Well, I'd gotten what I had wanted; so why did I feel so crummy now?

I swung moodily, thinking about what I wanted to do next. Should I go back inside to face my mother and the Potters? Should I look for James? What would I say to either of them? I didn't need to say much to my mother – she was easily occupied – but James wasn't the same way. What would I say? I was sorry that I was such a bitch? I guess that was one way to go. I sighed, frustrated; why was I always in this type of a mess?

I decided to go and look for James. Maybe that would stop the ache in my stomach. I hoped as much; I hated the feeling. I guess that it was time to get up, swallow my pride, and apologize. Ugh; I hated doing all three of those things at this time of night. Why oh why did fate enjoy tormenting me like this?

I still stood by what I said before as I went to hunt down James; fate was such a bitch.

_I couldn't resist throwing that joke in again. :D It was the ending to the first Dinner Guests story, if you recall. But anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and will read on to the next one! Lily has some painful apologizing to do. Hehe. And don't forget to leave me a review! The more reviews I get, the faster I update. :D_


	6. Apologies, Surprises, and Pictures

**Chapter 6: Apologies, Surprises, and Pictures**

_Finally! A long chapter:D This is full of J/L fluffiness, so watch out if you don't like that sort of writing. This is the chapter you've probably been waiting for, after reading the previous ones, so I hope this is to your satisfaction. :) I know I spent ages trying to get it right, and I'm rather happy with how the conversations flowed together. Reviews at the end!_

_Disclaimer: None of this is mine; it's all J. K. Rowling's._

He was in his room when I found him.

He didn't look miserable or anything; he was just flipping through some pictures. I walked in with a quick knock on the door, and he looked up at me. His face didn't show too much emotion, but I sat on his bed anyway.

"Hey," I said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. "What are you doing?"

"Looking at pictures," he said unnecessarily, gesturing to the piles around him. He then began to collect them all, and said, "Give me a minute; I want to put all this away."

"No, let me see," I said, pulling him back and taking the pictures, looking for any excuse I had to procrastinate my mission.

"You don't really want to see those," he warned me, blushing deeply red.

"That's up to me to decide, isn't it?" I began to flip through them, but as I did, my smile faded; they were all pictures of _me_. I had never known that he had made it a hobby to photograph me at every possible second.

I remembered a few of the pictures; James had asked me to pose for a few with my friends (because he had known that I would never have done it if I had been alone) but there was a whole stack of candid shots as well. Me at parties, me lounging about in the common room, me talking to people, me smiling, me staring out into space…there was even one of me when I fell asleep in the common room a few months ago while I had been studying for O. W. L.'s. The incident had been well-remembered, since I was the only one to fall asleep by the fire surrounded by books, but I had never known about the picture.

"James, why have you taken a million pictures of me?" I inquired, flipping a few over.

"I don't know, to be quite honest," he said, looking at the ones I moved away. "I had my camera, there were no available models, and I couldn't resist. I told you that you wouldn't want to see these though, so you can't blame me."

"Why did you take a picture of me tying my hair up in the corridor?" I showed him the picture, almost indignant. I hated pictures and he knew it.

"Sirius thought that you had put on a little weight, you were looking particularly skinny then, and I took it as proof," he explained, going, if possible, even redder. "I kept the picture because you looked nice."

I couldn't help but snort. "So you've made it a pastime to take pictures of me when I'm not looking?"

"Well, yes," he said. "I liked that picture of you laughing the best, like I've already told you; that was why I framed it. I was going to frame that one too, but I hadn't gotten around to putting it up." He pointed to the photograph of me leaning back on the sofa, looking moodily at the fire as he told me.

I gave a reluctant giggle. "You are such a stalker. But somehow it's okay when _you_ do it. I wonder why that is."

"It's because you're in love with me," he said, batting his eyelashes playfully. "Right?"

I bit my lip. "I wouldn't say I'm in love with you, so to speak…maybe I've decided to accept you."

"So I'm your friend now?"

I sighed. "I suppose you are." I hated opening up to him like this, and I hoped that it showed.

"Will you sit next to me in class when school starts again?"

I gave him a revolted look. "Of course not."

"Will you sit next to me during meal times?"

"No!"

"Will you let me kiss you in public?"

"James, I'm still nobody's girl." Why did he forget this so much? Why did _I_ forget this sometimes?

"Well, now you're my girl," he informed me, grinning, as he put his arm around my shoulders. "Is that all right?"

"No," I refused. "I don't want to be anybody's girl. I'm not in love with you either. It's something…else."

"Right." He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "You just told me yourself that you like me."

"I don't want to talk about this," I said, trying to dismiss the topic. "I'm really here because I want to apologize." I didn't like beating around the bush, so the apology seemed to be coming out more blunt and far more quickly than I had intended. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch before."

"You are being a bit of a bitch lately," he said, looking thoughtfully at me. "I'm not going to lie; you are. Would you like to tell me why?"

We were so candid with each other all of a sudden; it was almost disconcerting how we could talk about such things. It was only now that I realized how we had been talking to each other; about love, about emotion, about how we felt about each other. I never would have thought in a million years that I would be having such conversations with a person of his status and ego. I hated fate.

"Would you like the whole truth, or an edited truth?" I asked unwillingly.

"The whole truth, if you don't mind."

"I do mind; very much," I said. "But I guess it's because I'm afraid."

"What are you afraid of?" His eyes softened when he looked at me.

I fidgeted a little, trying to think. "Oh, I don't even know…I just am."

We were silent, just looking at each other, attempting (in my case, unsuccessfully) to read the other's eyes. My stomach began to flip-flop out of control, and my chest was fluttering harder than it had been before. My throat was dry, and there was a huge lump in it that just wouldn't go away. I was sweating a little, trying to calm down, but it wasn't working too well for me. My breathing got progressively shallower, and I really wanted to run away.

"James, do you promise you won't laugh at me?" I was going to be honest. I had to be honest. What else did I have left? Lying hadn't exactly done much to help me.

"Of course." His eyes were earnest now, like they almost always were.

"Whenever I look at you, my systems go ballistic," I confessed, my cheeks warmer than ever. "I can't breathe, my stomach goes all screwy, my throat is parched, and I can't think straight. It frightens me because I don't know why it happens. All I know is that it does, and to try fighting it off, I try fighting _you_ off as well."

"I do that?" This startled him. "I'm sorry."

I stood up and paced around the room, looking for something else to say. "You know what else?"

"Yes?"

"When I was in the bathroom, I wasn't doing anything besides thinking about what to do about you," I said. "I decided then that I wasn't going to feel anything more for you. I decided to be nobody's girl then. I still don't want to be anyone's girl, but I thought I should mention it anyway."

"Would it help matters if I told you that I really wanted you to be my girl?" James asked. "Would it help your stomach if I told you that I did love you, despite your almighty bitchiness?"

I wanted to cry; this was going all wrong. "That just messed everything up again. Thanks a lot."

"I tell the truth, Lily," he said. "You know that I care profoundly for you."

"That's the problem," I said with a sigh. "I might feel the same way back." There I was, opening up again. Why did I do this around him so much? Why did I bother asking myself this when I knew it was hopeless? I really had to stop talking to myself. It was beginning to frighten me.

"You care about me too?" Oops; I had let that one slip, and now he was permanently fascinated in my response.

"I think I do," I admitted, my stomach lurching unpleasantly.

"That's…that's good to know." He was in shock, but his tone had a note of wonderment in it. "Sorry for losing my temper, by the way."

"No, its fine," I dismissed. "I deserved it."

"Nah, I was just overreacting." He was so casual about everything; it nearly made my heart break.

"You are too forgiving," I accused.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Sort of."

"Love makes you do crazy things sometimes. You should know." He grinned, pleased with his rather cruel joke.

"This is still new to me, so don't make fun of me," I objected. "For the record, I don't love you. I said I may like you, which is only a possibility. I also said that I wasn't your girl. I am not anybody's girl right now, and I don't plan to be. I also said I _may_ have accepted you; that doesn't mean that I _did_. And furthermore –"

I was about to say something else, but I was cut off by James coming forward and kissing me right on my mouth. My stomach just about fell out of me, and my heart nearly stopped beating, but I didn't care; my internal organs could melt as much as they pleased so long as James was still kissing me.

Last time this had happened, I hadn't let him run away with it because I had been afraid. This time, I let him put one of his hands on the side of my face and the other on the small of my back. His lips seemed to be fused with mine, but I didn't care about that either; I applied my own pressure back. My hands were in his hair; his hair was ever so soft, and easy to put my fingers in. This was almost like another world – overwhelming and new – and I discovered here that I was in love. Yes, I was in love with James Potter. I hated the truth, but I couldn't avoid it anymore because I liked where I was.

Then, as quickly as it had come, everything came to an end. He separated himself from me, and slowly, my breathing began to regulate. My heart began to restart and my stomach started to inch back to its original position; I put my hand on my chest, trying to find my ability to speak.

"Oh my," I said in stupefaction, still breathless.

"Oh my is right," he agreed, just as wondrous. "I've never kissed a girl like that."

"Really?" I was thrilled; the idea of doing something first with him was quite pleasing.

"Yeah," he said, putting his own fingers in his hair. "I liked it though. I liked it very much."

"I guess I'm in love with you," I said, looking at him with a bit of contempt. "Thanks a lot; you've stolen my affections when I was determined to hate you."

"Hey, you stole mine from the very beginning, no matter what you did to me, so don't even give me that line," he defended himself, grinning.

"I was trying to give you all the reasons why I was not in love with you, and you just _had_ to kiss me then," I complained. "I don't want to be in love!"

"Well, your monologue was absolute crap and I was getting annoyed," he said, shrugging. "That was the only way I could think of to shut you up. You were lying through your teeth."

"Not completely," I tried to endorse myself. "I wasn't kidding when I said I was nobody's girl."

"Yes, you were," he said. "You're my girl, whether or not you admit to it. And why don't you want to be in love? Isn't it supposed to be the best feeling in the world?"

"No, it isn't," I countered. "Boys will break my heart and I just don't want that to happen. I don't want to give the best of me to someone who may not return the favor."

James threw his pillow at me. "Oh Lily; I've been smitten with you since I was eleven, and now we're sixteen. How much longer do you need me to prove I care about you?"

I mulled this thought over for a moment. "Well, I've seen the movies, heard the music, and read the books; heartbreak sucks, and I don't want to fall victim to it. And besides, you're James Potter; you have a million girlfriends, are always out having fun, and you hardly have to try to do well. You're funny, talented, and apparently you're good-looking too. You're everything that people want to be and more. Why don't you choose someone else who's interested?"

"Are you trying to doubt that you're enough for me?"

"No," I said at once. I wasn't so sure though; putting it like that was so simple when my feelings were much more complicated.

"Well, good, because you are more than enough to me," he said, smiling shyly. "I've never known _you_ to have a low self-esteem, Miss Evans."

I grimaced. "Please. I'm all right, I guess, but you're way out of my league. You're out of everyone's league, really."

"You're quite complimentary tonight," he remarked. "Normally you like to pick at my faults."

"If you'd rather I did that, it can be arranged."

James laughed. "Okay, okay, relax. I'm just pointing out how you're a bit different right now."

"You broke my guard," I grumbled. "I can't seem to build it up again, so I'm being nice. Sort of."

He laughed again. "Lily, you never cease to amaze me."

I lay back on his bed, sighing. "I could say the same, you know. I have never let anyone get that close to me. Why did it have to be _you_? Why couldn't it have been someone else?"

"Thanks?" He was in such a good mood that night; everything felt comical when he was like that.

"You know what I mean," I said. "You are…you."

He smiled his dazzling smile, making my chest flutter all over again. "Well, now that things are a little clearer, will you go out with me this summer?"

I thought about this. "I'd have to say no, because I don't want our relationship to be like that."

"Then how do you want our relationship to be? I'm all ears." He leaned in closer, looking at me as though I was the most important thing in the world.

I didn't laugh this time, but I requested, "Can we just be almost-friends?"

"I've heard of being friends, but what's an almost-friend?" He was looking rather entertained now.

"I mean that we're just…we get along, and that's it. I still hate you, so to speak, but we aren't as mean as we normally are." He gave me a look, so I amended, "Okay, so _I'm_ not as mean as I normally am. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I think I can," he said. "But only if I'm allowed to kiss you. I liked doing that."

"Not in public, but maybe a tiny peck on the lips won't matter too much when we're alone," I reasoned.

James rolled his eyes. "Please. Do you really think I'd settle for something like that? You were lucky that I let you go when I did this time; you have no idea how hard it was for me."

"You're getting all gooey now," I told him, chuckling. "Stop."

He ignored my claim, stood up, and opened the door to his room. "Let's go downstairs, shall we?"

"Sure," I said, letting him take my hand. "My mother will probably put me on a pregnancy test if I'm gone any longer."

He laughed as he led me down the stairs. "Somehow, I can believe that."

I sighed. "When will I see you again?"

"If you'd like to get a muffin or something, you can see me as early as tomorrow morning." He grinned. "Would that work?"

"No," I said. "Never mind. Forget I asked that."

He played with a lock of my hair. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

We were downstairs by _his_ front door now, and he pushed me up against it, his nose in my neck, making me giggle. "Fine."

"Stop it," I said, pushing him away from me. "That tickles."

He kissed me briefly. "I'm sorry."

"You're forgiven," I said, gently brushing a bit of his hair on the side.

"James, Lily!" It was my mother's familiar shriek, calling me down when I wanted to be left alone. She did this to me often enough, but this time, I was not in the middle of kissing James. That was a step up from the last time.

She bounced over to us and beamed. "Hello kids! Lils, are you ready to go?"

"I suppose," I said, looking back at him. "Am I ready to go?"

He rolled his eyes and pretended to look defeated. "Fine. You may take her back, Mrs. Evans."

"Thank you, James," Mum said, grinning as she put her hand on my shoulder. "I'd like to keep my daughter, unfortunately, so you'll have to see her in school. Lily doesn't date."

"I don't?"

"No, you don't," Mum confirmed for me.

"Are you leaving then?" It was Mrs. Potter; she had come out to the front door as well, and was smiling at James and me. "You must be; James looks upset again."

Mum laughed. "Yes, we must get going now. We still need to fetch Petunia. Say good-bye, Lils."

"Good-bye," I said robotically, nodding at Mrs. Potter and Mr. Potter when he came around. "Thank you for having us tonight. I had a lovely time." I turned to James then, and I could feel my face light up. "Bye, James," I said. "I'll see you at school then?"

"I think you will." He leaned forward, and, even though our parents were watching, he kissed me very softly on my lips. "Bye."

My mother looked about ready to explode with horror and enthusiasm, but she held it in for once as she ushered me out the door with many thanks to the Potters. She obviously didn't want me to get near James again, but I still waved to him timidly. He waved back to me, and my heart could have exploded like my mother was about to when I was out of the door. Maybe fate wasn't too bad after all.

"Lily! I think that that boy is in love with you!" Mum shrieked once we were getting to the car.

"I think he is too," I said. "I think I feel the same way."

"This is fantastic, Lily bear!" Mum drew me into a crushing hug. "I'm so excited for you!"

"Thanks Mum," I choked. "Do you mind sparing my rib cage?"

"Sorry sweetie." Mum let go of me, still beaming. "Oh my goodness! What are we going to do with you, Lily?"

"You can…leave me alone and let me love James in peace," I suggested hopefully. "Like, don't make a big deal and embarrass me?"

Mum laughed, her mood too joyous to be brought down. "Of course I won't! We'll talk about this later; let's fetch Petunia, shall we?"

"Must we?"

Mum laughed again. "Yes, we do, unfortunately. Get ready for the explosion."

"I'll grab my helmet," I said. "Would you like a blue one or a green one?"

"Blue, if you don't mind," Mum said as we pulled into the driveway of Petunia's friend. She honked the horn a few times and a very disgruntled Petunia arrived, looking exasperated.

"Mother, why couldn't you just leave me there for the night?" she grouched.

"Because we want to keep you," Mum said. "I apologize."

"You'd better. You are so unfair! You take the fun out of life!"

"I do not, Petunia!"

And so began the life-long argument; my mother and my sister were so prone to these, but tonight, it was all right. I had time now to reflect on what had happened, which made me want to scream with gratification. I was in love! I had been kissed in the way I had wanted to be kissed since I had read my first romance novel! I was floating on my own personal dream cloud by this point.

Have I mentioned how much I love fate?

_Lol my favorite joke; the fate one. I'm sorry, I won't use it again. Anyway, leave me a review! I'd be insulted if you didn't. :D_


	7. Another Ending of Sorts

**Chapter 7: Another Ending of Sorts**

_This is the last little chapter, which I finally updated, haha. The second half of the chapter goes into third person, I know, but it was that way on purpose. I hope you like it. :P Review at the end!_

_Disclaimer: This is all J. K. Rowling's, not mine. Remember that._

Once we were home and Petunia was safely upstairs whining about how her life sucked, Mum took me into her room and sat me down on her bed, and looked at me fondly. I found myself remembering sitting on James's bed this very same way not even two hours ago, and I discovered that I wanted to be back there again; he could hold my hand, touch my face, kiss my cheek, whatever he wanted really, so long as he was _there_. There had been a time when I wanted to get rid of him, and never see him again…how stupid I had been. How stupid I was being right now too. Would I ever stop being stupid? I had the knack for doing exactly what I wanted when it was the wrong thing to do, for which James is prime example. There must be something wrong with me.

"So I guess you've found that there is more to James Potter than you thought," Mum said, smiling as she broke my reverie. "Didn't you loathe him before?"

"I thought I had, but I guess I hadn't," I said with a sigh. "Why am I like this? Why do I have to fall in love with _him_?"

"Are you sure it's even love?" Mum asked. "Sometimes we confuse love and lust when we refer to loving someone."

"I'm positive that it's love," I said. "It has to be. My stomach always twists, my throat has this enormous lump in it, and I have trouble breathing whenever I see him. When I talk to him, I feel myself put my guard up as high as it can go so that he won't see me, but he always manages to break it. That's not lust."

"Remember that you're only fifteen," Mum said gently. "It's your first crush – it's going to feel like it can go on forever when it really won't."

"I've had other crushes before," I said. "None of them were like this."

"Well, you just be careful with your heart now, Lily Evans," Mum warned. "I don't want it flung out to every half-baked boy that will almost certainly break it."

"James won't," I said before I could stop myself. "I know he won't." How strange; there had been a time when I had been positive he would tear me apart in a few years, yet here I was, telling my mother that it would never happen. What a world we live in.

"Okay," Mum said a little too kindly; she obviously didn't believe me. "I'm going to smack that sister of yours now, so I'll leave you to your thoughts. Get into bed and sleep some time soon, all right, Lily Bear?" She smiled and kissed the top of my head before leaving me alone in my room.

I sighed and flopped back onto my pillow; it had been a very weird night.

**&&&**

"So you _really_ like her?" Mr. Potter asked James the moment the Evans family was out the door.

"Yes, Dad," James said warily. "I do like her. A lot. If I didn't, I wouldn't have kissed her in front of you."

"Have you kissed a girl before?" Mrs. Potter inquired. "You seem to have done it with ease."

"Well, yes, but it's only easy if you really love a girl," said James. "I love Lily more than any other person in this world could love anyone else."

"Awww, Jamesie, you're growing up," Mrs. Potter said, hugging her son.

"I told you never to call me that, Mum," James complained. "It's so embarrassing!"

"Well, it's just us now, isn't it?" Mr. Potter laughed and ruffled James's hair. "We didn't call you Jamesie in front of Lily, did we?"

"I would have used the Cruciatus Curse if you had," James informed them. "I know you're my parents and the curse is illegal, but the humiliation! Lily would never speak to me again."

"James Potter, you are not going to talk to us like that," Mr. Potter thundered. "And as for Lily never speaking to you – it's unlikely. The girl likes you, and she won't care if your parents call you Jamesie. Her mother probably has a weird name for her too."

"I know, but I want to look absolutely perfect to her," said James with a sigh. "I love her."

"No one's perfect," said Mrs. Potter. "She isn't, and neither are you."

"She is perfect," James corrected. "She is the closest thing to perfect that we have here in England. Or the entire world."

Mrs. Potter laughed. "She has her faults like anyone else does, James. Now go upstairs and go to bed please."

James shrugged and trudged up the stairs, unwilling to let the day end. Lily Evans had admitted to loving him! He had kissed her! Too bad it was over. For now, anyway. They could always date at Hogwarts, where their parents couldn't stop them, but the summer was far from over. He had never thought the day would come, but James wished he could go back to school – back to the faraway castle where he could do whatever he wanted with Lily. But until then, the sweet, sweet memories made tonight would satisfy almost satisfy him. Almost.

Resignedly, he brushed his teeth and bounced into bed. On his bedside table was the picture of Lily laughing; he smiled at it for a moment before turning on to his other, more comfortable side. He turned out the lamp and settled into the darkness.

'I love you, Lily,' was his very last thought before sleep carried him away.

If only he had known that, at the very same moment, Lily herself thought, 'I love you, James,' before falling asleep as well.

_A/N: Oh, the mush of the last two sentences/paragraphs! Yes, I know; it's quite overwhelmingly sickening. But I hope you liked this long-overdue ending! Thanks for sticking it out!_


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